


all along the western front

by ednoppoz (zopponde)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Agender Locus | Samuel Ortez, Bloodplay, Body Worship, Codenames, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Season/Series 11, RvB Trans Week, Scars, Touch-Starved, Trans Felix | Isaac Gates, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, female-coded terms for AFAB trans anatomy, male-coded terms for AMAB trans anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zopponde/pseuds/ednoppoz
Summary: A tactical call turns into a personal one. It's not Felix's fault that Locus's voice is so good.-“Come on, Sam, when’s the last time you got off? I hear you can’t even find good porn in Armonia, ‘cause the Feds are justmassiveprudes. That’s what the revolution’s all about, isn’t it? You’d think so, hearing the teenagers trying to talk politics.”“And I don’t have the same needs as a teenager.”“But you haven’t hung up on me yet,” Felix teased.





	all along the western front

**Author's Note:**

> This fic uses female-coded anatomical terms for a transmasculine character and male-coded anatomical terms for an AMAB nonbinary character. (Let me know if there's a better way to tag for that....)

It didn’t really matter what Locus was talking about. Some tactical detail or another. Which strategies they expected the Feds to pull out of their asses, what codewords they could use to clue Felix in without having to go through the whole thing while Felix helped the New Republic get ready for battle. It was Felix’s turn to be winning the war, so it didn’t really matter: Locus would set the Federal Army up for failure, Felix would conveniently remember exactly the kinds of battle plans that his partner always preferred. Locus played a little too cold to worry too much about acting, but if the latest general wanted to pitch a fit about how Locus should know Felix well enough to guess their tactics, they’d growl about Felix adapting and learning from the New Republic leadership.

What mattered was that growl. The signal was unusually strong today, and Felix’s private quarters were far enough from anyone else that he could turn up the volume on his headset until it sounded like Locus was in the same room. He leaned back against more pillows than strictly met regulations, and he knew that Locus’s chest was harder than that with all that goddamn muscle, but the weight of Felix’s back against the thin mattress was just enough that he could close his eyes and eventually remember.

Locus’s arms were solid and warm. Felix knew a thing or two about the violence they were capable of, but he could write a book about the tenderness that they’d hold Felix with. The warmth, the solidity, protectiveness in every strand of muscle wrapped around Felix’s shoulders as his head rested on their shoulder. When Locus spoke, the vibrations of their vocal cords would ring through their body and into Felix, a sound so intimate as to be made tangible.

There was nothing tangible in Locus’ voice over the comms, but Felix felt his breathing slow as he relaxed. He would be comfortable falling asleep like this, if it weren’t an awkward way to potentially be found.

“--ready next week?” Locus asked.

Felix blinked his eyes open at the question. “Yeah,” he said. “Totally. Three battalions, right? We’ll have the supplies for that by then.”

“Good,” Locus said. “I’ll make sure that the Feds split up their forces before that. It’ll open the door for you to advance, maybe even…”

The rest of it seemed a lot less worth his attention as Felix came back to himself enough to realize the dull throb of arousal between his legs. He sighed in annoyance, knowing he had planned to get off after this, and that if it faded then it’d be a long and unsatisfying process. As Locus’ voice rumbled through the comm headset, Felix’s arousal intensified into a dampness between his folds, remembering those arms and the solid press of Locus against his back, the poke of an erection into Felix's thigh…

Felix slid his hand over the tank top and into his underwear. With one long stroke, he dragged the moisture from his cunt to his clit, washing over himself with a warm pleasure. He sighed, and it didn’t matter if Locus heard that. Locus didn’t even stop talking, so maybe it would go unnoticed. Maybe Felix would get off before Locus even knew, and Felix would get his good night’s sleep as soon as he goddamn wanted.

“... who lead them to victory,” Locus was saying.

“Mmhm,” Felix said sensually, working two fingers into himself.

“You can get off to it later,” Locus said, and Felix felt a shock of embarrassed ice shoot through him, blindsiding him like a sniper round to the chestplate. But Locus went on, “There’ll be ample opportunity for you to bathe in the hero-worship while the Federal Army forces regroup. As long as we stick to the plan, everything will be fine. Any questions?”

Felix licked his lips. “What are you wearing?”

The comm filled with silence until Locus dripped disappointment into the airwaves. “You’ve been touching yourself.”

“Maybe so,” Felix said, hearing the husk in his voice and not even caring. “You going to punish me for it, Sam?”

Locus sighed static. “You’d enjoy it too much.”

“Come on, Sam, when’s the last time you got off?” Felix asked, shifting his hips to settle into bed a little better. “I hear you can’t even find good porn in Armonia, ‘cause the Feds are just  _ massive  _ prudes. That’s what the revolution’s all about, isn’t it? You’d think so, hearing the teenagers trying to talk politics.”

“And I don’t have the same needs as a teenager.”

“But you haven’t hung up on me yet,” Felix teased.

The resulting silence was long enough for Felix to wonder if Locus had hung up on him. Felix checked the status of the line, verifying. The channel was still open on both ends, or some diagnostic was broken, and Felix was preparing himself to get off to the vague knowledge that Locus might possibly hear him when Locus spoke again, softly. “Isaac.”

Felix chuckled into the headset and repeated the old in-joke. “Codenames.”

“This isn’t a business call anymore,” Locus said, confirming their interest. They took an audible breath through their mouth. “I’m wearing whatever you dressed me in.”

Locus must have been wearing their battle armor, then, or at least the undersuit. They didn't think armor was sexy for some reason. Locus was probably stripping from the waist down now, trying to get their cock bare and into their hands. “You’re wearing nothing but a leather collar and a ring on your cock. I tell you to hold still and lace you into a little corset. Not too tight, but I take my time feeling your back under my hands and checking the feel of your waistline.”

“I see,” Locus murmured. “What are _you_ wearing?”

Felix glanced down at his tank top, not yet sweat-stained but with an unfortunately-placed pinhole tear or two, and at the worn elastic of the boxer-briefs that his hand snaked under. He decided that honesty wouldn’t really fit the mood right now. “Fishnet stockings with stilettos, and a mesh crop top. Some black bikini bullshit underwear, for now. Any other requests?”

Locus breathed heavily into the comm and Felix felt his own wetness under his fingers as he imagined the swell of Locus’ dick, the feel of its weight in his hands. “You look irresistible. I run my hand up your thigh as I kiss you.”

“I didn’t say you could touch me.”

“I can’t help myself. Do you kiss back, or do you punish me?”

Felix thought of his idea of punishment. Spanking, or chains, or sharp pulls on the collar, or a knife gliding heavily over skin. All worthwhile sensations, but as he ran his fingers around his cunt, Felix relaxed into the bed and remembered the solid strength of Locus’s embrace. “I kiss you.”

“I pull you close, with my arms around your shoulders,” Locus said, and Felix smiled as he leaned back into the feeling of being known so well. “I guide you to the bed and lay you down gently.”

“It’s a soft fucking mattress,” Felix whispered huskily, and Locus chuckled at the tangent. “With clean sheets and a down comforter that I lay on top of like a prince.”

“You are a prince. _My_ prince.” Felix shivered at the rumble of Locus’ voice and turned up the volume on his headset. “I tangle my fingers with yours and I kiss under your neck. My other hand spreads over your chest, feeling the texture of the mesh.”

“I put my hands on your shoulders. God, you could lay me across them if you wanted, couldn’t you?” Felix hummed into the thought of it, helpless and carried, maybe some kind of vibrator involved as Locus carried him wherever they goddamn wanted.

“Do you want me to?”

Felix sighed as his fingers slowed. “Not this time.”

“Good. I wanted to slide my hand under your shirt and lift the hem so I can kiss your scars.”

Felix traced his dry hand over his chest, slipping under the bottom of his top to tease lines where Locus might put their lips. His other hand ran slow circles around his clit. “Which ones?”

Locus hummed breathily. “All of them. I start with your surgery scars, each side.”

“God, we still haven't had a chance to do anything with those piercings,” Felix groaned. He’d pierced his nipples shortly before heading to Chorus. Between the healing time and the job itself, the few fucks they’d gotten in person were vanilla as hell, too rushed to appreciate the addition.

“I lick each nipple. I flip the ring with my tongue until you have those pretty little nubs for me to brush over with my teeth.” Felix tugged gently at the bits of metal, moaning into the flash through his chest. Locus’ breath hitched, lodging in Felix's gut. “When I’m done tasting the metal, I kiss the scar on your rib from that job in the Eridanus system. And then the scar on your shoulder from training.”

Tracing a finger over his chest, Felix chuckled. He hadn’t remembered where that scar came from, just that it formed the tapered line of a serrated knife wound. Good thing Locus could remember these things.

“I pull your hand to my lips and I kiss the back, where that alien bit through your glove,” Locus went on before Felix could respond. “I turn it around and kiss your palm, tasting the salt of your skin before I set your hand on your chest. I watch your beautiful face reddening as I lower myself to your stomach.”

“I don’t blush that much,” Felix breathed into the comm, shifting his knees apart, propping one foot up on the bed to better angle his fingers into himself.

“Just enough so I know you’re enjoying yourself.” With a chuckle, Locus added, “I love the look on your face when you’re aroused. I can tell from the stillness of your lips what you want, and I know that your cunt is wet and begging for me.”

“Fuck,” Felix whispered. “Loc--”

“Codenames.”

“Sam, fuck, I want you here,” Felix moaned, pushing three fingers into himself. “I need you, your fucking hands on my chest, I just want you to hold me.”

Locus gasped, holding their breath for a long moment, and Felix knew the look on Locus’ face, the way they curled inward when they froze abruptly to stop themself from coming. Felix slid his thumb up his clit, wishing he could stroke Locus to completion himself, thighs open on Locus’ lap, giving his partner no option to please him but to lick him clean. Letting Locus taste the shame of their early release.

With a shaky breath, Locus went on. “If I were there I would kiss your stomach, your hips. The scars I left when you begged for a memento. Just after Siris.”

Felix remembered that night. The sharp desperation cementing details in his memory: the gym shirt stretching and tearing under the fierce grip of Felix's hands grasping for something permanent, the click of the blade unfolding into place in Locus’ hand, the bruises on Locus’ hips from Felix squeezing his pain into another body, the hint of blood in his mouth as his teeth clenched into Locus’ shoulder. Felix had blamed his tears on the droplets of blood racing down his skin, drawing lines towards the overstimulated tenderness beyond the patch of wiry curls, tracing down for Locus to lick off his thighs. Later, Felix would see the traces of red in Locus' teeth and kiss it out of them, his own life cutting across his tongue as Locus spilled into him.

The cuts had long since healed into tidy scars, the slightest bump of pale skin that Locus liked to brush over with a broad thumb. Felix tried to simulate the motion but without Locus there was barely a shiver. All he could do was moan curses and thrust his hips against his hand, trying to fit further inside himself. “It's not enough, Sam,” Felix whimpered. “I need you.”

“Don't you still have that dildo under your mattress?” Locus asked hungrily. “I could get off without touching you if I could just see you splayed out and twitching around your favorite toy.”

“I'd have to stop to get it.”

Locus sighed, and Felix nearly heard their hands come off of their dick. “I'll wait for you.”

Felix couldn't bring himself to stop his fingers, only to slow the pushes he made into himself. “You don't have to. My orgasm doesn't count on you holding out for me. You could come whenever you want.”

“I don't want to,” Locus said, low and deep, “until I know you will be satisfied.”

“God,” Felix whispered, voice cracking as he rubbed fingers along the ridge of his vulva. The phantom rumble of Locus' chest scraped against the edge of something in Felix, but even as he quickened his pace for a minute, release evaded him. “Just keep talking.”

“Not until you get your dildo. I want to hear you try to breathe as I thrust into you.”

Felix moaned, back arching his hips up from the bed, panting as his muscles relaxed without orgasm. “Fuck,” he mumbled.

Locus exhaled pointedly through their nose.

Sighing, Felix slid his dry hand under the elastic to slide his underwear off his ass. “Fine.” He rolled to the edge of the bed as he kicked in vain, trying to get both tasks done faster and failing miserably. With a desperate groan, Felix yanked his underwear off and flung it under the bed as he yanked the dildo out. “I've got it,” he said, throwing himself back into bed with one leg hanging off the side. “Why was this necessary?”

“I guide your hand to push the toy into you,” Locus said, voice tightening as their hand wrapped around their cock. “My palm over yours, sliding it through your wet folds, easing into you…”

Felix sighed, head tilting back as he drew the slow line down his vulva with the head of the dildo. He drew a long inhale as he pressed the dick into himself, sliding easily on his arousal but filling himself slowly for Locus’s benefit. Without saying a word, Felix panted, catching his breath as he adjusted to the fullness of his cunt.

“Perfect,” Locus breathed. “You control it as I kneel to kiss your scarred knees through the fishnet. I run my hands over your calves, your thighs, up until my fingers brush against yours. I slide my hands under you to cup your pert little ass.”

Lifting his hips off the mattress, Felix moans as he pushes further into himself, the loudest sound he’s made all day. Let the whole New Republic know that Felix got laid tonight. “You probably have a great view from there,” Felix said.

“It’s phenomenal,” Locus said. “You’re phenomenal, Isaac.”

“I’m spread out for you, letting you see what your dick does to me,” Felix purred, drawing the dildo out slightly so he could push his hips back onto it. “It’d be torture to keep you from jerking it. And I’m feeling merciful today.”

“I--” Locus barely got that far before they caught their breath, holding it again.

“You can come whenever you want. Just talk me through it,” Felix said.

Locus inhaled slowly and hissed, “Shit,” panting against the microphone as they rubbed their dick, the faint sound of slapping flesh just surpassing the feedback in Felix’s headset. “I hold your hips as I lick through your folds and into your cunt,” Locus murmured hotly. “I smell you, I taste you--”

“What do I taste like?” Felix asked, grinding his clit against the heel of his hand and moaning as the dildo hit a new angle.

“I kiss you after you come. You taste--divine,” Locus gasped. “Savory. I don’t want to stop rolling you over my tongue, licking against the dildo, pressing into you. Your thighs quiver around me, you are my whole world.”

“Fuck!” Felix groaned, throwing himself back again. He thrusts the dildo into himself rapidly, slipping the other hand to stroke his clit. “I want you to fucking hold me, asshole, I want to lean back into your fucking chest, toned and muscled and scarred…”

“I would wrap my arms around your waist,” Locus said quickly, voice tense and as close in Felix’s ears as if they were actually there, hovering on the edge together, “I would fit into you better than any piece of plastic, I would have my hand where yours is now, I would stroke--” Locus’ breath caught, gasping.

“I’d feel when you came into me, and I’d come when you stroked me--fuck, just like you’re stroking yourself,” Felix added, feeling the edge of his orgasm and moaning into it, “ _right now_.”

Locus stuttered out a loud exhale, coming as Felix twitched his hips against himself. Felix moaned through his climax, listening to Locus’s breath scattered with gasping whimpers. He lay in his bed in the New Republic encampment, catching his breath as Locus steadied himself in Felix’s ears.

With a final deep inhale, Felix felt his breath steady. He could sleep now, in the sense of warmth from Locus’s arms and the climax shared over electromagnetic waves.

Felix threw his hands up in the air and yelled, “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” Locus snapped, already back to work.

“We _came together_!” Felix moved to sit up and hissed as the dildo pressed against him. “Fuck,” he whispered, pulling it out through a wave of hypersensitized sparks, and then he was sitting up and yelling again. “What kind of sappy goddamn bullshit was that?”

“Did you not enjoy yourself?” Locus asked dryly.

“Yeah I fucking enjoyed myself!” Felix picked up the comm array so he could pace the room. “We’ve been having sex for _years_ and we haven’t come at the same time, but _now_ it happens, and you’re _halfway across the fucking planet_. I can’t even high-five you from here!”

Locus sighed heavily and Felix could see them pinching the bridge of their nose. “Isaac. If you want a high-five so badly, just tell _any_ of the New Republic soldiers that you got laid.”

“Ugh, they’re all a bunch of horndogs who’ll want _details_ ,” Felix groaned.

“Then lie to them. Just go to sleep soon or you’ll be up all night.” Locus closed the channel.

With a frustrated kick at the air, Felix crossed the room to stow the comm array. His secrets safe, Felix threw himself into bed and crossed his arms, fuming at the cruel irony of fate.

**Author's Note:**

> Like the fic? Check out my Tumblr page:
> 
> seerofbread.tumblr.com/support


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